


Mad Love Series Part VIII: Eternal Flame

by kelztastic90



Series: Mad Love Series [8]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2018-04-02 01:32:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4040569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelztastic90/pseuds/kelztastic90
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuation from Burn it to the Ground. Harley is asked an important question. People from their past catch up to them. Read it and find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Mad Love Series, Part VIII: Eternal Flame

Break my heartbeat now  
I don’t know what to do  
Should I deny his love?  
I guess there’s nothing left to lose  
I don’t know how to break another heart  
Who am I to say that we don’t deserve love?   
He’s on his knees now  
Begging – well maybe not begging  
But he wants me  
He wants my heart  
And I don’t know how to give it up   
What will I say? 

Chapter 1: Eternal Flame

They say we are what we are but we don’t have to be  
I’m bad behavior but I do it in the best way  
I’ll be watcher of the eternal flame  
I’ll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams  
‘Cause we could be immortals, immortals  
But not for long   
\- “Immortals”, Fall Out Boy

I am in love with Harleen Quinzel. She is a damaged girl. She is beautiful. She is broken into pieces, but I love her. She is everything to me. We haven’t had the easiest time. I mean, we did meet in a mental institution. I am not going to be cliché and say I loved her from the moment I saw her. That’s all a bunch of bullshit. Sorry to burst your romantic bubbles. I am crazy. You all know that. You’ve read about me in all the papers. I am not a romantic guy.  
I changed because of Harleen Quinzel. I didn’t want to change, believe me. I was perfectly happy being a freak. Alone. Fucked up. I wore makeup to hide my face because…well, I had to, but at the same time I wore it because I was terrified of who I had become. I hated women before Harleen Quinzel. My mother was a failure. She let my father beat the shit out of her and she didn’t stand up for herself. She didn’t stand up for her own child. My wife hated me. I got married because maybe I loved her. I am honestly not sure anymore. I turned to this life because I thought that it was my way out of my situation. And it was for the time being. It caught up to me in the end. Perhaps Arkham Asylum was what I needed. Ok, I did not appreciate the straightjacket, that was a little much. But the moment she walked into my cell, I knew she was special.  
She is so incredibly smart, you can tell that from the moment you meet her. She has an energy that’s hard to deny. But she is broken. That’s what I knew from the first moment, what made me fall in love with her. She was alone, broken, just like me. She understood me and moreover, she wanted to understand me. No one else had. Everyone was afraid of me. They didn’t want to look at my face. My face instilled fear in everyone I met. Except for her. She saw me as I was and accepted it.  
Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. I was pretty shitty at showing my affections. I was afraid of love, plain and simple. I was afraid of what it could do to me. I didn’t want to let my guard down in front of anyone, and really, I haven’t even told her everything. But she knows the important parts of me, which is more than anyone can say. I broke her down and pushed her limits because I knew she could be more than she was. My methods are unconventional. I never said I was sane. I’m sanely aware of my insanity. I regret what happened to her parents. I never meant to kill them. However, they would always hold her back from her potential. They were withholding in every sense of the word. They didn’t believe in her like I did. They would have only gotten in the way of our happiness.   
I want to marry her for a lot of reasons. She gets me. That’s fucking stupid, but it’s true. She’s incredibly frustrating and manipulative, but so am I. The only consistent thing about our relationship is its inconsistency. We have a child together. Not our best move, but it can’t be taken back. She changed our lives by coming into this world screaming. Unlike her mother, I loved Olivia from the first moment I saw her. I never pictured myself becoming a father, but here I am. Harley gave me the chance to live the life that I always wanted for myself.   
We’ve hurt each other sufficiently. We’ve loved each other through it all. Why wouldn’t she accept my proposal? I know that it won’t be easy. She’s a tough bitch and she’ll have all kinds of stipulations and issues about us getting married, but it doesn’t matter. I just know I’m spending the rest of my life with her, married or not.   
I’m really just hoping she says yes.


	2. All You Sinners Stand Up

Chapter 2: All You Sinners Stand Up

Then the time for being sad is over  
And you miss him like you miss no other  
And being blue is better than being over  
All you sinners stand up singing hallelujah  
Show praise with your body, stand up singing hallelujah  
\- “Hallelujah”, Panic! at the Disco

The Joker was still on his knees in front of me, a position I certainly was not used to. It felt like a thousand years had gone by in two seconds, waiting for an answer.   
“Harley, my face hurts from smiling. What are you going to say?” he said through gritted teeth.  
“I think you should stand up. We are talking about this.” I replied.  
He exhaled deeply, closing the ring box. His knees cracked uncomfortable as he stood up. I wanted to make an ‘old man’ comment but figured it probably wasn’t the best time for that.   
He sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at all the roses strewn about.  
“What about this is turning you off, exactly?” he asked.  
“The whole thing, really.” I admitted, “You know I’m not a romantic.”   
“Yeah, maybe this was a little over the top.”   
“I appreciate the effort.” I offered, trying to be supportive.  
“So, you’re saying no, then?”   
“Not exactly.”  
“Harley, this is not a ‘maybe’ moment. This is a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ moment.”   
“Right now I can’t definitively say yes.” I said, “But I know that’s not helpful.”  
“Then it’s a NO.” he snapped. He made a move with his arm as if he was about to throw the ring against the wall, but he restrained himself.  
“Can I see the ring again?” I asked.  
His nostrils were flaring, “I’m going to kill you.”   
“Please?”  
He thrust the box into my hand. I opened it, staring down at the glittery demon. It was a beautiful ring. That much was true. He had clearly spent a lot of money on it. It was cut in the typical diamond shape, reminiscent of my costume I had worn as Harley Quinn. The diamond was flawless, not too big, the band a shiny silver.   
I put it on my ring finger, staring at it, feeling it. It felt sort of right being there. I remembered not really loving the ring Bruce had given me, considering it was a ring from like the 70’s, but in his proposal, it was the thought that mattered, that it had been a family heirloom. It was much more sentimental. I couldn’t totally remember what my ring from John-Marcus-whoever the con artist looked like; it had been a generic ring, silver with a small diamond, I think. I didn’t have the image engrained in my mind. Now I had pretty much tried to forget everything about him, about that whole period of my life.   
All along I realized I had been a fool, just trying to cling on to whatever guy had shown me any attention. I had been so desperate for love that I had blindly loved whoever had come along, the Joker being one of them, of course. But he was different. He had been through everything with me; things had changed. I had to admit that. This was the real thing. He wouldn’t be standing here still with me if he didn’t truly love me.   
I looked at him, and then down at the ring.  
“You look pensive.” He observed.  
“I am. I just have to think really hard about this.”  
“Harley, the best decisions you’ve made have been impulsive ones. Don’t overthink it anymore. Can’t you just say yes? What are we waiting for? We have a child together, we have a life together. It’s a fucked up life, but it’s ours. I don’t see any reason you can say no anymore.”  
“Pressure me, why don’t you.” I said absent-mindedly, still staring at the ring.  
That ring was more than a ring. It symbolized a commitment I would have to make.   
I looked at him. The tension hung in the air like a knife.  
I opened my mouth, and suddenly there was a loud banging at the door.   
“What the hell?” the Joker jumped up.  
I felt my heart freeze up in my chest, looking around the room for a blunt object, a gun. He usually had one somewhere. He always carried something.   
He opened the door, and got a swift punch in the face, falling to the ground.   
I ran to the suitcase, throwing clothes out of it as the man entered the room. He was a big dude; 6 foot or above, muscular. FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME. This was not happening right now. I dug in the side pockets with haste, trying not to panic. The baby started wailing in her crib, and the Joker started to get up, distracting the intruder. I ran to the bedside table, digging in the drawer.  
“Hey, asshole!” he yelled groggily.  
The man turned, and I hit him solidly in the back of the head with a King James Holy Bible. Never thought that would come in handy. The man went cross-eyed (or at least I think he did, considering he was wearing a face mask), and slumped to the ground.   
The Joker stared at me, breathing heavily. Everything was silent for a moment, other than Olivia whimpering in her crib.   
“Quick thinking, Princess.” He said.   
I couldn’t even muster the energy to be pissed about him calling me that.  
“We need to get the fuck out of here. Someone knows who we are, why we’re here. This is not good.” I was doing everything I could to not start hyperventilating.   
“You’re right about that.” He dug in the guy’s pockets, locating a small handgun.  
“Cover Olivia’s eyes.” He said grimly. I picked her up out of her portable crib and held her tight to my chest. I squeezed my own eyes shut as I heard the small pop of the gun against the man’s temple.  
“Jesus Christ.” I whispered.  
“Apt choice of words, considering he saved us for once.”   
I glared at him, “Really? Are we making jokes right now? You just killed a man in front of our baby.”   
“It was going to happen eventually.”  
“We are all sorts of fucked up.”   
“Excellent observation.” He looked around the room, “Ok, we need to pack up and get the hell out of Dodge.”  
“Omaha.” I said dryly.  
“Seriously, Harley, you know what I meant.”   
“What, I can’t make jokes, too?” I snapped.  
“Come on, let’s get our shit together.” He started shoving our clothes into our suitcase.   
“You can’t even fold them?” I asked irritably.  
“Ah yes, dear, we totally have time for proper folding!” the veins were starting to throb in his forehead, so I figured I would stop dicking around.   
I put Olivia down, and started gathering all of our stuff. Thankfully we hadn’t completely unpacked other than our clothes for the wedding and our pajamas for that evening. We had planned on leaving around noon the next day anyway. Our flight to Washington was at 6 PM tomorrow; we had decided to stop in and see Pam before heading off to our next destination, still sort of undetermined. We had considered going to New Zealand before ending up in London. It was nice to have unlimited money, huh? Again, not the time to be thinking about this crap.   
I helped him clean up and we zipped our suitcases with some difficulty.   
“Ok, now what do we do?” I asked, “If we check out now, where will we go?”  
“We just go to the airport, see if we can get an earlier flight. I am not staying here. Someone must have a tab on us.”   
“Very reassuring.” I said, glancing at the dead body on our floor, “And what do we do with him?”  
“Well, with the price of meat what it is, if you get it.”   
I stared at him deadpan, “We are making Sweeney Todd references now. Has that become a thing?”  
“I thought it was appropriate.”  
I held up my hand, “Ok, you get a high-five for your trouble.”  
His hand made contact with mine with a resounding smack, and I whipped my hand away, “God damn!”  
“Quit being a baby.” He rolled his eyes, “We throw the body out the window. He’ll land in the bushes, they’ll think he fell for the time being.”  
“Alright.”   
We lifted him with some effort, considering he was definitely heavier than both of us combined, and shoved him out the third story window, his body landing with a ‘thump’ in the bushes outside. He shut the window and locked it.   
He looked at me, “Wanna make out?”  
“Absolutely not.”  
“It was worth a shot. Let’s go to the lobby and check out.”   
“Won’t that look suspicious? It’s like midnight. We’re basically screaming that we’re murderers.”   
“We’ll just tell them we had an emergency and have to catch the next flight out. It happens all the time.” He said calmly.  
“I’m glad you think fast because I am basically having a complete nervous breakdown right now.”  
“Get it together, woman. We can’t afford any mistakes.” He shot back at me as we heaved our suitcases plus our child and all her belongings out of the room.   
We peered into the hallway. Silent as the grave. Poor choice of words, considering. I’ve never much been one for tact.  
Olivia whimpered a bit in my arms, and I shushed her, “Go to sleep, babe.”  
She buried her face in the crook of my arm.   
We got into the elevator, staring at each other, anxiety clearly marked on my face. He rubbed my forearm, “It’s going to be fine. We’ve done this before.”  
“That’s not reassuring. And really speaks volumes about this relationship, now that I think about it.”   
“Oh come on, I know you’re going to say yes to me eventually.”  
“I still don’t see why we have to put a label on it. We have a child together for God sakes.”   
He merely rolled his eyes, “If you say something about a wild horse that can’t be tamed or whatever like that lame-ass Carrie Bradshaw, I will punch you in the throat.”  
“I was not going to say that.”  
Shit. I totally was about to reference that exact episode. Sorry not sorry for being basic.  
The elevator doors opened to the lobby, and it was dead silent in there. Just a bored-looking attendant was sitting in a chair behind the front desk. We were about to make his life a little less boring.  
We approached the desk, and he stood slowly, “Can I help you?”  
“We need to check out.” The Joker said authoritatively, handing him our room key.  
He raised an eyebrow as he looked up our room number in his computer, “It’s like one in the morning. You guys are still booked until tomorrow at noon.”  
“Emergency situation.” I said, “We got the red-eye flight out of here at like 4. So, we’ll also need a cab to the airport, please.”  
“Alright, alright,” he said, typing the information into the computer, “So, you two owe 250 dollars for the room.”  
The Joker got out his wallet and gave him cash. We still were careful about documenting our whereabouts. And I guess we should be, considering what had just transpired.   
The front desk worker printed our receipt and handed it to us, “Thanks for staying. Hope everything is ok. I’ll call a cab around right now.”  
“Thank you.” I said, and we waited on the couch for our cab to pull in.  
He looked at me, “I’m impressed that you held it together.”  
“Me too.” I said, sighing deeply, “This day has been a whirlwind of emotions. I’m exhausted.”  
“You’d better call Pam and tell her it will be an early arrival.”  
“Right, right.” I pulled out my cell and called Pam. She answered on the first ring.  
“Hello?”  
“Geez, you’re awake.” I replied.  
“I’m bored out of my fucking mind. I sleep all day out of boredom, so I’m up late. What’s up? You sound…something.”   
“We have a situation. Can’t explain right now, but we’re taking the 4 AM flight out of Omaha so we should be in Seattle around like 9. Will you be able to pick us up?”  
“Of course.” She said, sounding more alert, “Is everything alright?”  
“Yes, yes. Well, not really. Whatever. Like I said, I’ll explain when we get there. See you in a few hours.”   
“Sounds good. Ok, text me when you land, bye.”  
“Will do. Bye.” I hung up.  
The Joker looked at me expectantly.  
“She’s good to get us. Did you change the flights?” I asked as he was typing furiously on his phone.  
“Yeah, one of my contacts took care of it. I mean, not many people are on a red-eye flight out of Omaha fucking Nebraska.”   
“Yeah, I figured that, but I’m just making sure.”  
The cab pulled around and we jumped up, rolling our suitcases with us.  
We hopped in, and sped off towards the airport, which was about 20 miles from the hotel. We passed basically just a bunch of creepy cornfields, and I was reminded vaguely of In Cold Blood. Yes, I know that was Kansas, not Nebraska. But, I mean, really, weren’t they the exact same? I’m sorry if I’m insulting people from the flyover states. I never said I was a nice person.  
We got to the airport, and it was basically dead. Just a few tired looking people, probably businessmen, waiting to get on early flights like us.   
“I’m stressed as fuck.” I sighed, “Can you get me fries?”  
“Yes, dear.” He said, heading toward the nearest open fast food establishment.  
I felt a little less nervous as I munched on my salty fries and watched him doze off in the seat next to me in the waiting area, Olivia on his lap doing the same thing.   
“Babe?” I asked.  
“Yes?” he opened one eye.  
“I really hate to ask because I honestly don’t want to know the answer, but why did that guy come to our hotel room obviously meaning to kill us?”   
“Are you asking me in this an airport, in plain sight and earshot of people?”   
“Yes because like…I need to know. Who the hell is really paying attention to us right now? Half the airport is asleep.” I said.   
“You’re really not going to like the answer I have to give you.”   
“I figured that.” I exhaled deeply, “Just tell me. I don’t want to wait around, wondering. I need some time to process this before we meet up with Pam.”  
“So…” he leaned back against the stiff leather chair, “Obviously, you remember when we were in Italy and I was planning to blow up Wayne Enterprises.”  
“Oh, yes, naturally.” I said, dead-pan.  
“Right. Thanks for not being bitter about it or anything. Anyway, when I was working on that plan, I hired an outside collective to do the job.”  
“A ‘collective’?” I snorted derisively, “You weren’t even having your own guys do it?”  
“They were all in hiding too. I have to think about the welfare of my employees too, Harley, geez! You’re so thoughtless.”  
“I’m going to punch you.”  
“Ok, ok, I hired this outside group. I had heard that they got the job done discreetly and without muss and fuss.”  
“And who did you hear this from?”  
“Me and Bane chat about it sometimes.”  
“…I think we can table that topic for another time. Please continue.”  
“Yes, let’s continue. I hired them to – can I not say blow up in an airport? I hired them to eliminate your former paramour and all his minions. Until you had to ruin it all by coming here and spilling the beans. Good call.”  
“I was not going to let innocent people die. At this point, I do wish that Bruce had actually gone up in flames. Dickhead. Asshole. Prickface. BLARGH.”   
“You’re spiraling.” He pointed out.  
“Yeah, sorry.”  
“Ok, so this collective – can’t name names because again, airport – gave me a contract for the job and I signed up. But here’s the little bitty problem with the scenario. They didn’t go through with the job because I never gave them the go-ahead to do so because I was dealing with your dumb ass coming here to save the day. So, herein lies the issue. I kinda…never paid them, so I’m guessing that’s why they sent that big gorilla to confiscate us from the hotel.”  
“Never paid them.” I repeated.  
“Yup.”   
“How much do you owe these people?”  
“Three million dollars.”  
“Three million dollars.” I said, feeling a bitter taste in my mouth.  
“Each.”  
“EACH.” I repeated with a higher intonation, “How many are there?”  
“There’s about 6 guys.”  
“So, you owe these guys 18 million dollars.”   
“I’m proud of your simple math skills.”  
“Shut the fuck up. You owe 18 million dollars to this group. Do you have 18 million dollars?”  
“I do not.”   
“Then that might be kind of a huge problem, babe.” I breathed in and out a couple times, trying to get some oxygen, “Holy fuck.” I put my head in between my legs and just sat there for a while.  
“You ok?” he inquired.  
“Goddamn it, no!” I sat up sharply, feeling the blood rush immediately to my head, “No, I am not ok. How the hell are we going to get 18 million dollars?”  
“This is the part you’re not going to like.”  
“And what is that?”  
“We’re going to have to go back into business.”   
“As in…?”  
“As in stealing, robbing, general mayhem.” He finished.   
“Dear Jesus God.” I said under my breath.  
“Yeah, you better keep praying because this is looking pretty bad.” He sighed, “I’m such a fucking idiot.”  
“Yes, yes, you are.”   
He glared at me, “Ok, I am admitting that this is totally my fault here, you don’t need to rub it in. I am trying to figure out what we’re going to do.”  
“We can’t go back to that life, babe. We already are done with that life. You said we were done. I don’t have it in me anymore to live like that, from shitty apartment to even shittier apartment with no working cable, eating Easy Mac to sustain myself. We have a child now, responsibilities. You told me that when we went to Italy that we were going to start over and have a real relationship. Yes, I screwed up because I panicked and thought I wanted something more but this is what I want. I want us and Olivia, normal, happy, in England in a cute little cottage with maybe a dog or something. I don’t want this anymore.”  
“Yeah, see, that’s the other part you’re not going to like.”  
“What?!” I asked with consternation.   
“If we do this, we cannot have Olivia with us.” He said, looking down at her, “It’s way too dangerous.”  
“What are you saying?”  
“That we’re going to have to leave her with someone until we take care of all of this.”   
I looked at my peacefully sleeping child, wondering if this was the end for us as a family unit. What if we died? She wouldn’t even remember us at all.   
“We can’t do that.” I said stubbornly, “We can’t abandon our child.”  
“We are not abandoning her. We are only going to leave her with someone we can trust for a couple of months. That’s all.”  
“Someone we can trust? Those are in short supply.” I snapped.  
“I was thinking your sister would do nicely.” He suggested.  
“My sister. My sister who just got freaking married TODAY and went on her honeymoon?! Now I am going to ask her to take care of my child for two months?” I nearly yelped, “You’ve got to be out of your mind. She’s going to kill me.”  
“It’s the only way. I guess we could leave her with Pam, but that’s not the best idea. Her mental stability has to be called into question.”  
“We are so not leaving her with Pam.” I said firmly, “I’m kinda concerned she may abduct our child so yeah, no, let’s not do that.”  
“Good call.”  
“Ugh.” I groaned, “Maggie is going to freak.”  
“Well, it’s our only option.”  
“Abandoning our daughter is our only option.”   
“Don’t make it sound like that.” He snapped, “You really think I want to do this?”  
“Ok, bud, listen up.” I whispered harshly, “This is not my motherfucking problem. You decided to get back into the crime game and that is your deal, not mine. I walked away from you when you wanted to have Wayne Enterprises along with that douchenozzle Bruce Wayne go up in smoke. I didn’t want to be associated with all of that shit. Now here we are, stuck again because you can’t help yourself. You want to be a criminal. It’s part of your DNA.”  
“Then it’s definitely part of yours. Our child is screwed.” He exhaled deeply, “Ok, I’m not going to sit here and say I haven’t made a mistake. I thought I could fix something in our relationship by eliminating the Bat. That was stupid of me. I should have known that you would have gone crawling back to him like you always do. He’s like your dumb-ass brooding security blanket. But we’re in this together now. You promised me that.”  
“YOU promised me that you would stop being such a psychopath. I thought you would change. Yes, I freaked out a little in Italy because I thought being domestic wasn’t for me, but I’m over that now. I want to be normal for once. Normal. Just freaking normal like everyone else in this whole goddamn world.”  
“Well obviously I haven’t!” he retorted, “You know I care about you, and that’s why I did it. I didn’t want you dealing with that asshole anymore and you know me, killing is my only answer to my problems. I find that it’s the most effective. And, to your other point, this is no way that either of us will ever be normal. That ship sailed a long-ass time ago.”  
“You’re an idiot sometimes.”   
“Sometimes being the operative word.” He grinned.  
“God, you’re the worst. Why am I with you?”  
“My stunning good looks and charming personality.”  
“Try again.”  
“No one else will take you.”  
“That’s probably more accurate.” I said. I rolled my eyes skyward, “Here we go again. The Joker and Harley, committing atrocities all over the globe.”   
“I don’t think I’d have it any other way.”


	3. Your Shadow

Chapter 3: Your Shadow

Light reflects from your shadow  
It is more than I thought could exist  
You move through the room like breathing was easy  
If someone believed me  
They would be as in love with you as I am  
\- “Angels”, the xx 

“How was the flight?” Pam asked as we got in the car.  
“Boring as fuck.” I said, slamming my suitcase in the trunk. The Joker put his in on top of mine.  
“Well, that’s a lovely assessment.” She rolled her eyes as I got in the front seat, “Care to elaborate?”  
“Yes, what I would love to do at the ass crack of dawn is sit on a plane with like only 10 other people for 4 hours. It was just so riveting, you wouldn’t even believe it.”  
“Tell me how you really feel.” She chuckled, speeding out of the loading zone and onto the highway. The scenery in Washington was quite beautiful, but I was in no mood to be awestruck.  
“I don’t think you would want to know.” I leaned my head against the window.   
“Why did you guys come in so early anyway? I thought your flight was going to leave at like noon today.” Pam inquired, “I thought it was a little odd that you decided to get here this soon. I mean, obviously you must have just missed me that much but I’m sure you have other reasons.”  
“Care to explain, my sweet?” I said sarcastically, squeezing my eyes shut.  
Pam glanced back at my boyfriend and child, “Well?”  
“I owe people money.” He said flatly.  
“And what does that have to do with leaving Omaha?”  
“We got ambushed.”  
“By who?!”   
“The guys I owe money to. They said a big enforcer to…well, I am not really sure what he was going to do. I imagine it was to intimidate us.”   
“And what happened to him?”   
“He’s no longer with us.” I supplied.  
“Oh, you guys…” she sighed, “That’s unfortunate.”   
“Yeah, I think it’s better that we’re alive, to be honest.” I said shortly.  
“Obviously I do prefer you guys being alive, but did you have to kill him? That seems excessive.”   
“When someone that large barges into your hotel room, your instincts are to kill him dead.” The Joker said, as if that was a totally normal thing to say.  
“You two are human garbage disasters. You can’t have one normal vacation like everyone else?”   
“Apparently not.” I replied, “But it’s his fucking fault. He’s the one who owes them like 20 million dollars.”  
“Jesus H. Christ.” Pam said.  
“Praying isn’t going to work.” The Joker piped up.  
“It’s just a turn of phrase, homey.” Pam snapped.   
“Homey?” I asked for clarification.  
“I guess I’ve gotten more street these days.” Pam shrugged.  
“I can’t even.” I muttered.  
“ANYWAY,” the Joker interjected loudly over the din, “We are basically fucked until we give them the money.”   
“I thought you guys were going to England?”   
“That’s not going to happen now. They’ll just find us there.” I sighed, “Because my dear lover had to be all bitter and jealous about Bruce Wayne.”  
“God, this really was all about him.” Pam said as if in disbelief, “Me going to prison was all about him. That motherfucker. I hope he gets syphilis and his genitals crumble and fall off and he slowly goes mad and his nose falls off and he’s super fucking ugly.”   
“That’s specific.” I commented.  
“I just want something slow and painful.” Pam said.  
“I agree.” The Joker said behind her.  
“Hey yo, let’s calm down and not be wishing venereal disease on people.” I chuckled in spite of myself. Pam always did have a certain way of making me feel better even if it did involve threaten of bodily harm to others.  
“You of all people should wish it on him.” Pam snorted derisively, “Such a douche.”   
“Well, that’s true but I’m not going to keep harping on it. Trying to turn over a new leaf or whatever.”  
“You were literally just cursing him out like a few hours ago.” The Joker pointed out.  
“Ok, ok, I am at least trying not to be as much of a bitch as usual. I can work on it. I can grow up or whatever.” I said dismissively, “Point is, Bruce Wayne, as always, is the source of all of our problems. Because he wants to undermine us at every turn. We need to come up with a strategy. How do you know that Bruce wasn’t behind our dear friend trying to kill us in the hotel room?”  
“Well, we don’t know that for sure.” The Joker admitted, “We can certainly find out. I’ve got enforcers all around the city to get some information. My inclination is that it’s not. Bruce has probably had it with dealing with us at this point. He doesn’t want to cause any more trouble.”  
“Somehow I doubt that.” I said, “He’s like a fucking cockroach. Every time we think we’ve gotten rid of him, he just pops back up again, worse than ever. This last time he basically got Pam thrown into a mental institution. I’m so over his fake humble-brag bullshit. He thinks he gets to be the hero while we look like shitty people.”  
“We are shitty people.” My boyfriend remarked.  
“Babe, we are this way by our circumstances. Bad things happened to us, so we got revenge. I mean, it’s not like we’re serial murderers or anything.”   
“I’ve killed a lot of people. Like, I mean, point blank in their face murdered.” He said, “We killed a man last night, in case you forgot.”  
“You did it because you had to.” I said dismissively.  
“Sweetie, you’re a fucked up mess like the rest of us. Just admit it.” Pam patted my shoulder patronizingly.  
I shrugged her off, “Come on. I refuse to believe that we are that terrible of people, ok? Let me live in my delusion.”  
“Fine.” Pam rolled her eyes, “Let me not point out the irony of you being a psychologist or anything…”  
I stared out the window at the passing buildings; I can’t even deign to call them skyscrapers. Seattle’s high-rises have nothing on New York’s. You know it’s true. The exhaustion and the weight of my situation was starting to hit me. I felt my eyelids getting heavy.   
“How far away are we?” I asked, yawning.  
“Just about 20 minutes.” Pam said in response.  
“Blargh.” I rested my head against the window. I felt so trapped. That’s dramatic, I know. I was freaked out. People were after us again and just when I thought things were going so well, we had everything together – for the most part - and now we were on the move for what felt like the millionth time. I used to think that I was such a stable person before all of this happened to me. I thought I had everything planned. I remember graduating from NYU with my doctorate, proudly thrusting my diploma into the air, thinking I had the world ahead of me. I was going to be successful, I was going to be great. I was going to make tons of money and have a beautiful house with a picket fence and a dog or whatever. That all went to hell in less than two years after that day.   
I looked back at my boyfriend and child, the two greatest accomplishments I could ever hope for – as demented as that is. I guess sometimes what you think your life will turn out like is far from what you’ve ever imagined. Maybe even a complete 180, really. Did I really think I’d be running from the law, from other criminals, hiding my identity, traveling the world like Carmen Sandiego? I don’t even have a cool hat like her.   
Pam pulled up to her parents’ house, a sprawling abode scaled with ivy (how incredibly ironic) and in the middle of the greenest fucking yard I’d ever seen. I stepped out of the car. The air was so fresh, it almost made me ill. I was used to the polluted skies of New York and recently the musky country air of Nebraska. This was weird.  
He stepped out behind me, “Wow, this place is great, Pamela.”  
“I know, right? I convinced my parents to put all the plants in when I was a kid.”  
“Surprise, surprise.” I commented, opening the trunk to get our suitcases.   
The Joker put Olivia down on the ground and she toddled happily across the grass for about three steps before she promptly plopped on her ass. The three of us immediately started, waiting for the impending wail, but she merely sort of gave a shrug and got back up again. My resilient, stubborn child.  
“She gets that from you.” I commented to my man.  
“I think her future stubbornness comes from both ends, babe.” He said, putting his arm around me and planting a big kiss on my cheek. I shoved him away.  
“Dude, seriously! Calm your tits.” I laughed.   
“Ugh, you guys are just killing me.” Pam rolled her eyes, “Let’s go inside. Mom is preparing us some brunch.”  
“Mimosas?” I interjected eagerly, almost bouncing on the balls of my feet.  
“Honey, do you even know me? Of course there are mimosas.”  
“Oh, blessed day!” I nearly screeched, bolting up the driveway.   
Angela opened the front door, and pulled me into a big, warm hug, “Harley, how are you?”  
“Tired, but feeling a little more energized now that I see food.” I said, peering behind her, “We had to bolt out of there without having breakfast.”   
She stepped aside and let me in, chuckling, “Please, eat. We have enough for an army.” She looked behind me at the Joker walking with Olivia, “Oh my God, is this your daughter?!”  
“Oh yes, it is!” I said, suddenly realizing that she hadn’t met her.  
“She’s absolutely beautiful, just like you!” Angela said, picking Olivia up. She stared at the Joker, “Oh, and obviously she must get something from you. Intelligence, perhaps?”  
“Yeah, thanks.” He said dryly.  
“I think you’re handsome.” I piped up, shoving a bagel in my mouth.  
“Somehow I’m not flattered at the moment.” He said in response.   
“Asshat.” I snapped in return, “Trying to pay you a compliment.”  
“Wow, I am just so impressed that you even tried. Good attempt, bae.”   
“Blarghhhh, bae? Can you not?” I glared daggers at him. He kept doing this thing to annoy the living hell out of me. And it was working.  
“Blessed.” He said, picking up a bagel, “Winning. Hashtag. Am I hip yet?”  
“You just said hip, so no.” Pam said, shaking her head, “So what are you two going to do about this whole mess you’re in?”  
“I’m too tired to worry about this.” I whined, “Can I please just have a mimosa and die? Is that too much to ask?”  
“That should be the subtitle of your memoir.” Pam suggested.  
“Even if I published my life as a book, no one would believe me.” I retorted.  
“Fair point.” The Joker said.  
“Obviously if I wrote a book I would be an omniscient narrator. That’s the only way to go.” I said.   
“What the hell is going on?” asked Angela, clearly lost. I didn’t blame her.  
“We’re being followed by some unknown gang who wants to kill us. And it’s all his fault.” I said, jerking my thumb at my stupid significant other.   
He shrugged, “I mean, I was just trying to kill Bruce Wayne. Can you really fault me for that?”  
“Honestly, no, not after what we’ve been through.” Angela chuckled, “But that’s still a pretty serious situation. What are you going to do?”  
“Again, not discussing this until I’m a shade less sober.” I announced, filling my champagne flute to the top and then chugging most of it in one gulp, “Shouldn’t be long now.”  
“You’re so beautiful when you’re crazy.” The Joker said fondly.  
“I imagine that’s what drew you to me.” I said, crossing my eyes.   
“Yeah, no, that’s not it.” He said, shielding his eyes from me, “I think I need a mimosa to deal with all of this bullshit.”   
I handed him one and he chugged it.  
“Another, please.” He said, handing me the empty glass, “This stuff is like pure orange juice.”  
“You want some vodka in there too?” Angela asked.  
He stared at her, “Woman, you are a saint.”  
She poured a good portion of vodka into his drink.  
“Where’s daddy?” Pam asked.  
“Oh, at work, as usual. He will see you guys later when he gets home.” Angela said, “Do you think Olivia should go down for a nap?”  
“Yeah, that would be fine.” I said, picking her up, “Naptime, hon? Mommy needs cocktails.”  
She nodded sleepily so I handed her over to Angela, “Anywhere that’s quiet will work. She sleeps better if you put on a movie or the TV.”  
“She likes Cinderella if you have it.” The Joker interjected.  
Have I mentioned how weird it is that we’re parents? Yeah, it’s pretty fucking weird.  
“I think I probably do. Want to come help me look? We can let the girls chat for a bit.” Angela suggested.  
“Sure,” he replied, following her, “You ladies talk about Sex and the City or something. I don’t have a vagina, so I have no idea.”  
“You couldn’t handle having a vagina.” Pam snorted.   
“You’re probably right.” He conceded, and away he went.  
After a moment of chatting, I then noticed that Pam wasn’t drinking.  
“No mimosas for you?”  
“Nah, it’s too early.” She said but sounded really unconvincing.  
I stared hard at her.  
She started shifting uncomfortably under my gaze.  
“YOU ARE PREGNANT, YOU BITCH.”


	4. Change Their World

Chapter 4: Change their World

So the days float through my eyes  
But the days still seem the same  
And these children that you spit on   
As they try to change their worlds  
Are immune to your consultations  
They’re quite aware of what they’re going through  
\- “Changes”, David Bowie 

“Um, yeah, I am.” She said, shushing me with her finger, “You don’t need to fucking scream it out to the world.”  
“How the – what – the – I don’t even…” I sputtered.  
“If you wait a minute, I’ll explain. My mom doesn’t even know yet.” She said.  
“I have to sit down.” I said, plunking myself onto one of their breakfast bar stools, which was harder than I imagined it being so my tailbone hurt like a motherfucker.   
“I know it’s kind of a shock.”   
“Ya think?” I said, my voice sounding hollow.   
“Listen to me, don’t make this about you. You tend to do that.”   
“It’s a little hard not to make it about me! What the hell, Pam? How did this happen?”   
“Um…I think you know HOW this happened.”   
“Shut the fuck up. Don’t get sassy with me. This is not the time for sassiness.”  
“Ok, ok, fine, you’re not in the mood for facetiousness. I get it.” She rolled her eyes, which infuriated me more. I hated it when she did that.  
“You better explain yourself fast, mama.”   
She glared at me for a moment, then continued, “Ok, here’s the thing. Oh my God, it’s so utterly shameful. You’re going to kill me. Like, literally kill me.”  
“If this is Bruce Wayne’s child, I am going to throw myself out a window.” I said, feeling dead inside.  
“Oh, no, no, no,” she shook her head vehemently, “But you’re close.”  
“IT’S BANE’S!” I said triumphantly, “Wait, how is that even possible? He is like humongous.”   
“That is not correct, sweetheart. And hey, if I was truly straight, I would definitely be interested in seeing how the mechanics of that would work. But no. Try again.”  
I sat there for a moment, thinking of people close to Bruce.  
Then it hit me like a ton of metaphorical bricks to the tits.  
“No.” I said with realization.  
“Yes.” She sighed.  
“NO.”  
“Yes.”  
“Not that little rat-faced fuckhead, Dick Grayson!” I howled.  
“I told you that you’d think I was stupid…”  
“NOOOOOOOO.” I wailed.  
“It was a revenge fuck…you know, with everything with Barbara…”   
“Fucking…Jesus…argh.” Coherency wasn’t happening for me today.   
Then she started laughing her ass off, more than was appropriate for the situation.  
I stared at her, “You’re just fucking with me.”  
“Yes!” she sputtered through her laughter, “I just needed to see the look on her face.”  
“I hate you. I hate you so hard.”   
“Ok then, I’ll move along. When I went back to New York, as you know, I backslid with Selina - right, we talked about that and I’m not readdressing it – and I also got a little reckless with one: my sanity, two: my alcohol intake and three: my birth control methods. Not a good combo.”  
“I am literally going to kill you.” I interjected but she interrupted me.  
“ANYWAY – I was picking up dudes in bars like nobody’s business. I was on fire. I was killing it. But then again I was in a pit of misery and despair so there’s that too. Point is, the possibilities lie in three different men that I slept with in that period of time.”  
“So…this is like Mamma Mia?!” I jumped up, startling her.  
“Don’t even start with me on that shit, Harleen.”   
“This is so exciting. It’s like a mystery novel except with promiscuousness.”   
“Dear Lord.”   
I ignored her, “Ok, so who are the three suspects?”  
“This is not Law and Order.”  
“I thought being hunted down by a gang was enough to get this story rolling but oh man, the hits keep on coming!” I grinned.  
“You are a sociopath.” Pam said, dead-pan.  
“Tell me who they are please please please.”   
“Ok, fine.” She sighed, “I think one said his name was Adam? I met him at the late night bar on Madison…he was a…law…something.”   
“Lawyer? Law clerk? Law professor?” I suggested.  
“Something like that.”  
“That’s extraordinarily unhelpful.”   
“Winner number two I’m a little clearer on; his name is Nick, he’s a tattoo artist in Brooklyn. Hot, so hot. Such abs, wow.”  
“That sounds more promising.”  
“And behind door number three…Bruce Wayne.”  
“WHAT?!”  
“Just kidding again!” she cracked up laughing. She shielded her face as I attempted to claw her eyes out, “Oh calm down!”  
“I CANNOT DEAL WITH THIS.” I was beyond help.   
She merely ignored me and pulled her out her cell.  
“The third guy’s name is…” she started scrolling through her phone, “Oh, here – um, his name is Hans.”   
“HANS.” I started snorting with laughter.   
“Oh, wait no, that says hands. Why would I put someone’s name down as Hands?”   
“I have no fucking idea what drunk you’s mind is like.”   
“Apparently I do. Hands. What the hell. Ok, he must be good with his hands?”   
“Amen to that.” We high-fived.  
“That still doesn’t solve what his name is.”   
“I have an easy way to fix that.” I snatched the phone from her and started dialing his number on my own phone and pressed ‘call’.  
“Wait-” Pam started to say, but the man picked up.  
“Hello?”  
“Hello, I am calling from your mobile company. Who am I speaking to?” I said, trying to sound professional but monotone like a telemarketer.  
“This is Michael. What is this regarding?”  
I hung up.  
“See, now we know his name is Michael and he has a decent vocabulary. Cute voice. I see it happening.” I said.  
“Harley, you literally heard him say 7 words.” She said wryly.  
“It’s plenty.” I clapped my hands together, “Oh, this is so exciting!”  
“My unplanned pregnancy is exciting to you?”  
“Um, duh! You’re my best friend. Didn’t you want to get pregnant?”  
“Well, yes, I did. The circumstances are less than desirable but at my core, I am pretty happy about it. You know I’ve always wanted to be a mom, and when Selina took Edward away from me, I thought it was all over for me. Even though he wasn’t really my child, I took care of him like my own. I was so heartbroken, I didn’t think I’d ever get over it. But…” she looked down at her stomach, “This might make up for all that.”   
I felt my eyes well up with tears.  
Pam grabbed my hand, “Oh no, don’t cry over me.”  
“I’m just so happy for you. I know how much you needed this.” I said, wiping my eyes.   
“Yeah, after the whole prison thing, this could really turn things around.”   
“God, you were pregnant in prison.” I said in sudden realization, “What a stereotype, Pamela.”  
“Shut up.” She said, laughing.  
“This is so Orange is the New Black it’s not even funny.”  
“Stop.”  
…  
After Pam and I talked through the plan – my plan, really – to go to New York and solve the mystery of the unplanned pregnancy (Nancy Drew has nothing on us), I wandered upstairs to find my man and our own unplanned lovechild. I’m such a loving, doting parent. Be jealous.  
I found them napping together in the sitting room off to the side of their den. It was so sweet I almost vomited. Again, loving and doting parent.  
He opened one eye, “Hello.”  
“Hi.” I said quietly, sitting down on the arm of the couch.  
“What was all the exclaiming about? I heard commotion in the kitchen.”  
“I’ll tell you later.” I rolled my eyes, “Basically, Pam is an idiot.”  
“That’s 99 percent of the time.”  
“Yes, well, this particular action is slightly more idiotic than usual.”   
“Sounds intriguing.”   
“Indeed it is. You will be agog.”   
“Aghast, even?”  
“I wouldn’t go that far.”   
He chuckled softly, “We are killing it with that witty repartee lately.”  
“Hashtag relationship goals.”  
“I would have to disagree. I don’t think we should be anyone’s idea of a normal, healthy romance.”  
“I respect that assessment.” I nodded in affirmation, “Let’s just say they won’t be penning any romantic ballads about the Joker and Harley Quinn.”  
I stared down at our daughter, “Have you thought about what we’re going to do with her?”  
“I already talked to Angela. She agreed to take care of her for the time being.”  
“Is Mike going to be ok with it?”  
“Whatever she says, goes. You know that.”   
“Fair point.” I brushed away her little straw-blonde bangs from her face, “It’s going to be weird, being without her.”  
“You’re more accustomed to it than I am.”  
“Spectacular dig, thank you ever so much.” I said, dead-pan.  
“Couldn’t resist.” He shrugged slightly.  
“That being said, I do think it’s the best solution at this juncture. My sister would be so pissed at me if I dropped a child into the mix after she’s been newly married.”  
“She’ll be pregnant tomorrow.” The Joker said.  
“Don’t say that about her. She will wait a respectable amount of time to get knocked up. At least she’s married.”   
“Again, something that we could remedy.” He put Olivia down to rest on the couch, “If you’d answer my question.”  
“I still have no answer for you, bro, sorry.”  
“As loving as that term ‘bro’ is, it doesn’t still confidence in our relationship.”  
“Let’s say this: we fix this shit that you started, and I will give you an answer.” I said, sticking out my hand.  
“We have an accord.” He shook my hand firmly.   
“Are we pirates now?”  
“We really might as well be. Anyway, what did Pam do that was so stupid? She’s not pregnant, is she?” he started laughing.  
When he saw my face that totally betrayed the truth of the statement, he stopped abruptly, “Oh, well, fuck.”  
“Yeah,” I drawled.  
“Who…what…how?” he was just as speechless as I had been.  
“It’s a long story.”  
“That doesn’t bode well.”   
We had dinner with the Isley clan that evening, me and Jay being ever so silent about the whole unplanned pregnancy thing. I didn’t imagine Pam’s parents were the type to be super upset about it but it was still not news I wanted to deliver to people who weren’t my own family members, as much as it felt that way.   
I thought then about my own parents for a brief vulnerable moment. I tried not to think that much about them, to be honest; it was very painful considering, you know, I was in a relationship with the man that inadvertently killed them.   
Let’s not mention how fucked up I am.   
I suppose that could stem from my childhood…but that’s a story for another time.   
Something that was always going to bother me was that they would never see Olivia. If you believe in Heaven or some plane of existence, then perhaps that’s comforting, but I don’t know if I really do.   
I can’t really fathom it at the same time because perhaps if they were still alive, maybe she wouldn’t even exist. It’s amazing how one moment can change the entire course of your life. Or, I guess, one big fire. Maybe I would have married John – I mean, whatever that fucking actor guy – and maybe I would have been happy. I realize that the Joker did me a favor in killing him and I would really rather have not found out 10 years into the future that our life we would have built together was a lie. I don’t think I could have bared that knowledge, being lied to for that long. But here I go again, dwelling on the past. That’s psychological torture at its finest.  
“Are you alright, Harley?” Pam asked, “You look a little lost.”  
“Just thinking.” I said dismissively.  
“About?” Angela inquired, looking up from her plate.  
“My parents.” I replied, not daring to look at the Joker while I said it.  
“Oh,” Mike said, “Where are they?”   
I realized then that Pamela had not explained much of my past to them.  
“Oh, um…they’re dead.” I said matter-of-factly.  
Angela reached across the table to grab my wrist, “I am so sorry, dear, I really had no idea. Pamela, why didn’t you say anything?”  
“Forgot.” She replied, looking very much into her green bean casserole.  
“You forgot to tell us that your best friend’s parents are dead?” Mike shook his head, “Or conveniently slipped your mind?”  
“Honestly, it’s fine.” I said helplessly over their arguing.  
“Honey, no, it’s not fine.” Angela said firmly, “What happened to them?”   
I paused. I couldn’t tell them the whole truth. They would kick the Joker out of their house posthaste a la Jazz from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. As funny as that would be, I couldn’t do that to him.  
“Um, well, they actually died at my wedding.”  
Angela and Mike stared me down, clearly in disbelief. They glanced over at the Joker.  
“Oh, we’re not married!” I said quickly, “I was engaged before – twice actually but that’s beside the point – to a man named John. I had moved to this small town in upstate New York and we met when I set up a practice there. The day of our wedding, a huge fire broke out in the rectory; John and my parents died that day.”  
Angela’s hand flew to her mouth with an audible gasp, “Dear holy Lord! Weren’t you devastated?”  
“Oh yes, at the time. It was a few years ago; my life has changed so much since then. It’s just…um, I was sitting here and remembering our own family dinners and wishing that it could be that way for me again. It is still a little painful. It happens at random moments; it sort of just hit me right now that I won’t have family dinners with them again. I mean, it’s awesome that I still have my sister, but it’s only a small consolation at times.” I said, feeling my eyes well with tears. I had to admit that they were real; I wasn’t faking it for the attention.  
Angela got up and rushed to me, embracing me tightly, “Harley, you are welcome at our table for as long as I am living. You know that.”  
“I do, thank you.” I said, meaning it.   
Angela looked over at Mike, “Speaking of, I have something to talk to you about.”  
Mike raised an eyebrow, “And that is…?”  
“Well, Jay and Harley have to take a lengthy trip to New York to handle some business, so we’re going to take care of Olivia for a little while.” She said firmly, in a tone that suggested that she was not to be argued with.  
“That would be fine, dear. I think it would be nice to have a little one around here; it’s been so long since we’ve had a child around here. Since Pammy is not really interested in having one…”   
I glanced at Pam, and she caught my eye.  
I mouthed, ‘Do it.’ I don’t think she was going to get a better opening than that.  
Pam cleared her throat, “Well, Mom and Dad, actually there’s something I need to share with you.”   
They both slowly turned to look at her, her mom blanching slightly.   
“I’m pregnant.”


	5. No Use Crying About It

Chapter 5: No Use Crying About It 

Oh, all of these minutes passing, sick of feeling used  
If you wanna break these walls down, you’re gonna get bruised  
Now my neck is open wide begging for a fist around it  
Already choking on my pride, no use crying about it  
\- “Castle,” Halsey 

I think you could have heard a fucking pin drop in that room. I slowly looked between Pam and her parents, waiting for a reaction.   
“Are you joking?” Angela asked, her voice cautious, reluctant.   
“I wish I was, but I’m not.” Pam replied, her face growing redder by the second, “I am all kinds of knocked up.”  
I suppressed a chuckle because – well obviously, not the right moment.   
Mike stood up silently and walked over to Pam. She looked up at him expectantly, nervously. He reached down and proffered an embrace, “I am so happy for you, honey. We’re here for you. Aren’t we, Angela?” he asked pointedly.  
Angela nodded, “Of course, Pamela, of course. Your father’s right. This is a blessing. We’re going to have a grandchild. Honestly, never thought it was going to happen, considering the…lesbian business.”  
It felt like the air returned the room. I let out a deep breath.  
Pam rolled her eyes, “Thanks, Mom, always so tactful in your approach.”   
“You are going to be a mother.” She repeated, as if she were trying to wrap her mind around the words.  
“Yes, indeed.” Mike grinned, “This is amazing! Awkward question and I am sorry to be asking it, but who is the father?”  
Pam pursed her lips, “That’s the funny thing…I am not sure.”  
Angela’s face went dead-pan, “That’s lovely. How are you not sure?”  
“Because I…well, I was…how do you explain that you whored around to your parents? This is just too much.”   
I merely put my forehead down on the table.   
The Joker patted my back, “You know of my checkered past, babe, and the things I’ve been through. But honestly, I’ve never been in a weirder moment in my entire life.”  
“Somehow I believe it.” I muttered.  
“Do you plan on telling the father?” Angela inquired.  
I lifted my head, “Good question. Rebuttal?” I looked at Pam.  
Pam glared at me, murderous, “I am working on it.”   
“I’m helping!” I volunteered.  
“Well, that does make me feel a little more at ease.” Angela admitted.  
“I’m the trustworthy one.” I said, feeling smug.  
“It’s because you’re not their child.” Pam retorted.  
“Fair.” I dug into my mashed potatoes, “So when are we booking the plane tickets? In a few months, you won’t be able to fly and I am not missing this drama.”  
“We have other things to tend to, remember?” the Joker said under his breath.   
“That can wait.” I said, dismissing him.  
“I could get murdered or something but whatever, it’s fine.” He said petulantly.  
“We’ll all go to New York. I’ll help Pam and then join you. It will be fine.” I said, grasping his hand under the table, squeezing it, “I told you I’m with you to the end, babe.”  
“I know, but I’d rather the end be later rather than sooner.”   
“Gee, babe, so would I. God, quit the melodramatics.”   
“I’m melodramatic? This coming from a woman that would swear weekly that she was going to stop watching Grey’s Anatomy.”  
“Shonda Rhimes toys with my goddamn emotions!” I snapped, “How she could kill off Derek [spoilers] is beyond me!”   
I looked up and Pam was staring at me with widened eyes.  
“DEREK IS DEAD?!” Pam wailed, tears flowing down her face, “UGH, stupid hormones! Stupid baby, fucking with me!”   
“What is happening?” Mike asked, looking around wildly, “Who is Derek?”   
“Don’t worry about it.” The Joker said, shaking his head in embarrassment.   
…  
Two days later, we were packed up and ready to board the plane to New York. Mike and Angela were driving us to the airport, Olivia in tow, playing innocently with her doll. I looked down at her, feeling a surge of guilt at leaving her again. I felt like I had just begun to re-forge my bond with her. It was so much time and it was not enough time. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times – wait, sorry, copyright infringement? I don’t know. Let’s keep moving.  
We got to the airline drop-off point and Mike and the Joker were heaving all of me and Pam’s bags out of the trunk. We’re women; we don’t pack light. Literally all my boyfriend had was a duffel bag that contained all of his worldly possessions. Including that pesky diamond monstrosity he wanted to give me. I am going to keep ignoring it like the very mature adult that I am.  
We embraced the Isley’s, promising them that we’d see them very soon.  
“I cannot thank you enough for what you’re doing for us.” I said quietly to Angela.  
“It’s no trouble at all. We have a huge, empty house and Mike still works so much. It will be a welcome change to have a child around the house. I guess I should start preparing for that.” She glanced over at Pam, who looked like she was on the verge of vomiting.   
“Hang on.” She grumbled and ran to a trash can, where she proceeded to puke her guts out, “Pregnancy is the literal worst!” she yelled to no one in particular.   
“We’ve all been through it, dear.” Angela called. She looked back at me, “Please, for God’s sakes, take care of her. Make sure she goes to a doctor.”   
“That’s the first thing on the list.” I said, showing her the aforementioned list on my phone.   
“Alright, that’s good.”   
“Make sure you send me updates or pictures of Liv when you get a chance. Record stuff. Let her ride a pony or something. She’ll love it.” I said, feeling myself rambling to try to stave off the tears.  
Angela hugged me again, “Harley, I promise it’ll be ok. She will be just fine. You’re doing the right thing.”  
“I know, it just feels like the wrong thing right now.”  
The Joker walked over, holding our daughter, and said, “We’ve got to get going. They won’t let us stay here much longer.”  
“Yeah, I know.” I said, choking on my own voice. I looked in her big blue eyes, so much like mine, and I said, “Ok, Mommy and Daddy are going on a trip, Livie. We’ll be back so soon you won’t even remember we’re gone.”  
“Can you say bye-bye?” the Joker said to her.  
She waved her little fingers, “Go bye-bye.”  
“I AM NOT OK.” I said, turning away.   
“Babe, cool it. We will be back soon.” He said, putting on this bravado, but he was actually choking up a little himself. He knelt down by her, “Daddy loves you.”  
“Daddy!” she exclaimed, and my heart was broken into like a billion kajillion pieces. Fucking…ugh.   
I know it’s super awful to say, but I never thought I would love my child as much as I do. People kept telling me how amazing it is, and I’m going to be honest, there are moments I really don’t get it, like when she vomits on me or is completely stubborn and doesn’t listen – obviously did not get that from me – and then there are moments like this one where I feel something deep in my gut that has never been there before. As we all know, I am emotionally stunted as fuck, so motherhood has been very confusing for me. The Joker took to it like nobody’s business. No one has been more shocked than I am about that.   
I guess sometimes it’s hard to remember that he was someone else before he became…whatever this was. That he was a normal guy, who was married, wanted to have kids. It was easy to get lost in his persona and I had to remind myself that he is human and that he wasn’t always a whack job.   
“Let’s go.” I said, tugging on his arm, “I can’t take this.”   
“Ok, ok.” He said, “Bye, Mike, Angela. I can’t thank you enough.”  
“It’s completely fine.” Angela said, smiling down at Olivia, “We’re happy to help. Come back as soon as you can.”  
“We will.” I said, and I stole one last glance at them loading into the car before they drove away. I swallowed hard, willing myself to not cry like a goddamn fool.   
Pam was meanwhile still hovering over the top of the garbage can, moaning, “This is the worst thing ever. I mean it.”  
“You got like 7 more months to go, girl, so buck up.” I said.  
“Thanks for the sympathy.” She said wryly.  
I simpered, “You’re welcome. Let’s go check in.”   
We checked in for our flight and headed through the security line. Always mildly stressful considering we don’t have real identities anymore. Hashtag life of a felon.   
We got through the security without much ado and went toward the gate; our flight was set to leave in about an hour. Pam made it about halfway there before she bolted for the nearest bathroom.  
“Should you go with her?” Mr. J asked.  
“I would really prefer not.” I said, scrunching up my nose, “She didn’t help me when I was vomiting during my own pregnancy. She’ll be ok.”  
“Boy, if I didn’t know you, I’d swear to God you were a robot.” He shook his head.  
“I am pretty fleshy for a robot.” I said, poking my boob.   
“I’d say you are pretty sexy for a robot.” He grinned.  
“Haha,” I said in a sarcastic tone. We had made it to the gate and set our stuff down, including Pam’s because she had unceremoniously dumped it when running to the restroom.  
“Speaking of…” he said, his voice trailing off.   
“Of what?” I asked, digging through my bag for my Kindle.   
“We haven’t, you know…” he said, insinuating.   
“Bang bang bangity banged?” I filled in, not very much bothering to lower my voice.  
“Lovely way to put it. As always, so tactful, my dear, but yes.”   
“Eh.” I shrugged.  
He sat there for a moment in silence, staring pointedly at me while I was attempting to read. Finally, I looked up, “Can I help you?”  
“Eh is not a satisfactory response to my statement.”  
“I’m sorry, tell me what you want me to say. Oh, my loins are burning for you. I can’t breathe without you touching me. I am so hot for teacher. Or whatever.” I said, turning my attention back to my book.   
“Seriously?” he snapped, “That’s the way you want to play this? With your condescending, nasty attitude? Sometimes, Harleen…sometimes I just want to smack you.”   
“Oh please, go ahead. I want to feel alive.” I knew I was being an ass-hole, but I think I lost any fucks I had to give a long time ago.  
“You are the absolute worst girlfriend on earth.”  
“Give me a goddamn medal. It must be an Olympic sport by now.”  
“Ok, listen,” he inhaled deeply, fighting his anger, “I will level with you. I know how you get. You have intimacy issues, I know. It’s very difficult for you to connect to me physically, and you know what? I don’t pressure you about it at all, so consider yourself lucky.”  
“As opposed to what? You would force yourself on me like an animal?” I hissed, “Real classy.”  
“Harley, I love you. I have a child with you. I think it’s reasonable to expect a certain level of intimacy with you. I want to express it…you know, physically.”  
“Every fucking guy says that. They need ‘a physical expression of love’ to ensure that I care about her. Since when did that matter to you?”  
“I need to be with you. It’s just…a primal thing. I just see you and I have to be with you. At least once in a while.”   
I looked at him. His eyes were sincere, that much was obvious, but for some reason, I wasn’t buying it. I am very mistrustful of people who want to use sex to get what they want – cough, Selina Kyle, cough – and it doesn’t flatter me. He should want to be with me. I’m hot as fuck and I am the mother of his child. Biology says that endears men to us more than anything else.   
“Ok, look, I am sorry that I haven’t been very accommodating in that regard. I just…I just don’t feel the need to do it most of the time. When I want to, I will. I promise. Wouldn’t you rather I come willingly than not enjoy it?”  
“Sometimes, I just honestly want to put my dick in you.” He said bluntly, dead-pan.  
“I respect that. That’s at least honest. Be honest with me. For that, I think you’ve earned a gift from me to be redeemed later.” I said, “We have an understanding?”   
“Good.” He said, “Do you want a breakfast sandwich?”   
Men are fucking simple and stupid creatures, aren’t they?   
“Yes, but it better have bacon on it or I am not accepting it.”  
“Why in the world would I ever order something without bacon on it? God, it’s like you don’t even know me at all.” He scoffed.   
“And coffee, please…” I said as he started walking away, “Puddin’.”   
He halted, and slowly turned around, “Not in public.”  
“Go make yourself useful.” I said, shooing him away.   
He secretly likes it.  
Pam came strolling by and plopped down in what was previously the Joker’s seat, “He looked like someone punched him in the nuts.”  
“I might as well have.” I shrugged.  
“Are you being emotionally unavailable again?” Pam asked, digging in her purse for her phone, “It’s getting a little old, don’t you think? The whole ‘I’m a tough bitch’ act only works if you actually are one.”  
“Oh, just like you, right?” I said, dead-pan.  
“I’m tougher than you.” She retorted.  
“You had a fucking pony growing up. I had to pay my way through college.”  
“Oh yeah, right, on a gymnastics scholarship. Real tough.”  
“I still had to waitress in grad school!” I replied with vigor.   
“I had a man do science experiments on me and turn my skin green!”   
“Well, you do have me there.” I admitted, “Let’s just agree to disagree. We both have made stupid decisions that made our lives difficult.”  
“My bad decision is growing a mile a minute in my stomach.” She said, leaning back against the seat, “What the hell am I going to do?”   
“Aren’t you happy?”  
“Of course I am. You know how badly I wanted a baby. But…not like this. I thought that maybe there would at least be a father…or a surrogate mom or something. But now I am all alone.”  
“You have me and Mr. J.” I offered.  
“Fat load of good that’ll do me when you’re off in fucking Myanmar or whatever.” She snorted derisively.   
“We were going to London. Not even close. But we’re here now. And we are helping you. He’s got business to attend to anyway.”   
“What kind of business?”  
“Oh, you know, the whole thing about us being stalked by a gang that he owes money to. That old chestnut.” I said, feigning nonchalance.  
“So normal.”  
“Oh yeah, just everyday stuff.” I affirmed, “So, what’s the plan once we get to New York? We track these men down, lure them to a secret spot and force them to do a paternity test?”   
“That is so not what we are doing.” She glared at me, “You have a messed-up brain.”  
“Honey, I am in a long-term relationship with a man who dresses up like a clown and has –” I lowered my voice, “-murdered people for fun. I think we passed ‘messed-up’ a long time ago on the highway to hell.”   
“Oh great, now you have ‘Highway to Hell’ stuck in my head.”   
“That should be our theme song.”  
“No, I think personally mine would be ‘Crazy Bitch’.”  
“That’s stellar. I like it.” I grinned.  
“What about you?”  
“I told you, it would be ‘Hold Me Down’ by Halsey. That woman just gets me.”  
She rolled her eyes, “Mhm. Not hitting it on the nose at all.”  
“No, never.”  
Breaking the fourth wall is fun, right?   
…  
After 4 and a half very long and cramped hours in coach (ew) on the plane, we finally disentangled ourselves from our seats and out into the airport. Pam had managed to monopolize the bathroom the entire flight due to her constant vomiting and so everyone was crabby because they had to pee and she kept telling them to ‘fuck off or be fucked’. That’s my girl. Just so kind and saintly.   
“This child better literally never give me any problems because this pregnancy sucks my dick so far.” She wailed loudly, causing some yuppie-looking moms to cover their children’s ears.  
“Out of pity, I hope the same for you.” I said.  
“We got a good one.” The Joker added.  
“Oh, we totally did. She’s my precious cinnamon roll who will never do anything wrong.” I agreed.   
“Nope, never will.”   
“What are you going to do when she gets a boyfriend?” Pam teased.  
“I will decapitate him.” The Joker said gravely.  
“Oh yeah right, you old softie. I saw you playing Barbie dolls with her the other day and making goofy voices. You’ve completely lost your edge.” Pam chuckled, “I hardly ever even see you with your makeup on anymore.”  
“I don’t need it. I think it would scare Liv.” He said, “I couldn’t bear that.”   
“Will you ever be…you know, ‘you’ again?” Pam asked.  
“Yes, in a matter of hours I will have to re-access that part of myself. To be honest, I am about 75 percent looking forward to it. It will be like coming home, threatening people with bodily harm.” He smiled that mischievous half-smile that always gave my heart a little jolt. It reminded me of the first time I saw him in Arkham, that same smile that drew me in.   
“And you will be donning your old costume as well?” Pam directed her inquiry toward me.  
“If the occasion calls for it. I do miss the smell of that plastic-y leather. What a reminder of the carefree days.” I said wistfully.   
“I wouldn’t describe them as carefree.” Mr. J said dryly, “Let’s go with perhaps dilapidated, garbage-person life.”   
“Yeah, but we were so different then. Not a care in the goddamn world. Now we’re…parents.” I shuddered.  
“Didn’t exactly stop you.” He pointed out.   
“I had a momentary freak-out. Happens.” I said, flushing.  
“More than once?” Pam piped up.  
“More than twice?” the Joker said.   
“I think we’ve lost count at this point.” Pam added.  
“Unimportant.” I said dismissively, “Let’s get our shit together and come up with a plan. We have bigger fish to fry.”   
“I have access to piranhas if that works.” He said, grinning.  
“You read my mind, Mr. J.” I said, planting a kiss on his cheek.


	6. Broke Down

Chapter 6: Broke Down

Broke down, thought that I would drown  
Hope that I’ve been found, fore I hit the ground  
Sun rays out the corner of my eye, hey  
Saw you weeping, saw you creeping  
Saw you sneaking in the shadow’s dawn  
I feel so strong  
\- “Reaper”, Sia 

“Let’s get down to business.” I said, slapping a big yellow legal pad on the table.  
“To defeat the Huns?”  
“Solid reference, but focus.”  
Pam and I were sprawled on the couch in the hotel room that we were utilizing while we were in New York, me attempting to map out the plan for her Mamma Mia style paternity excitement. The Joker was out doing Joker things which I never pretend to understand. He makes himself conveniently absent for these types of moments, mostly because he didn’t agree with what we were doing.  
“I don’t agree with what you’re doing,” he said as he walked out the door that morning, “Bye.”  
“He’s a careless con anyway.” I said dismissively.  
“I just feel like we’re opening a can of worms with this situation.” Pam said, shoveling some strawberry ice cream into her mouth.  
“Slow down, you have plenty of time to get fat.” I said, raising an eyebrow.  
She glared at me and then flung a small spattering of ice cream at me.  
I jumped, “Jesus Christ, woman, are your hormones that wonky?!”  
“I have to guess so.” She said, and then licked the spoon.  
“Ok, well, I can’t judge because I have repeatedly abandoned my boyfriend and child, so I’m just going to let that go.”  
“That’s very big of you.”   
“Anyway, I really think you need to find out who the father is. I don’t think your future unborn chunky plumpy baby should go through life not knowing who its father is. Also, if he’s shitty, you can avoid them ever dealing with him and ending up like my good-for-nothing boyfriend.”  
“Well, first of all, do not call my fetus chunky. It’s not possible for it to be chunky yet. Second of all, you and Bruce Wayne had excellent fathers and you are both very, very fucked up.”   
“As are you.”   
“Good point. So, I don’t think the paternity thing makes a huge difference.”  
“But, listen – what if you guys like met back up and it was super magical and you got married? It would be amazing.” I said, literally getting starry-eyed with joy.  
“This is not a Hollywood rom-com where I am played by Amy Adams and the mystery guy I drunkenly slept with at a bar is like Ryan Gosling or something. Although, I would totally watch that movie. Besides the point. What if he’s a total dickweed?”   
“We have to find out who he is for us to ensure that he is not, as you say, a total dickweed.”   
“Fair.” She shrugged, then she paled, “Hang on.”  
She then vomited into her empty ice cream container.  
She looked up at me, “I am rotting from the inside out. This baby is trying to kill me.”   
“Well, she already takes after you.” I retorted, and she picked up the ice cream container as if she was going to pitch it at me, and I scurried off the couch, “NO WAY YOU ARE THROWING VOMIT AT ME PAMELA, NO WAY!”  
“It shut you up, didn’t it?” she smirked, and put it down on the table.   
“Lord help me.” I hesitantly perched back on the edge of the arm of the couch, “Ok, let’s review. There are three possible candidates. Today we will hit number one, who is…?”  
“Adam, the law…person.”   
“Your memory is terrible.”   
“There was way too much tequila involved.”  
“Never ends well.” I affirmed, “Pretty sure that’s how Liv was conceived.”  
“Stunning.” She said, wrinkling her nose.  
“I do have sex with my boyfriend.”  
“Not enough, I gather.” She said, looking introspectively into her own vomit.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I narrowed my eyes at her.  
“I kind of overheard what you guys were arguing about the airport.” She replied, “And also he told me.” She added quickly.  
“You guys should not be that close. It’s not ok for me.”  
“What’s your deal? Too dry down there?”  
“Ew what? What the fuck?”  
“I’ve had that problem.”  
“I don’t want to know that.”  
“Girl, just have sex with him, please. I am not interested in hearing about your lack of sex life.”  
“Neither am I. I think that might be the issue, now that I ponder it.” I shook my head, “Let’s focus on you. You’re the one who’s knocked up with a mystery man’s child.”  
“Keep reminding me, that’s so kind. I quite love it.” She said wryly.  
“Ok, do you have the address for law person?”  
“Yeah, I looked him up this morning. He works at some big fancy law firm in Manhattan, not super far from here.”  
“Sounds promising.” I clapped my hands together. I stood up, “Ok, let’s get ready and get moving!”  
“I don’t feel well.” She groaned, face-planting herself on the couch.  
“This is not the time, hon. We gots to go.” I said, gesturing toward the front door.  
“No quiero.” (“I don’t want to”)  
“No me importa si quieres o no, Pamela, pero vamos!” (“I don’t care if you want to or not, Pamela, but we’re going!”)  
“Ugh,” was her eloquent response.  
“I am not messing around, what is your fucking problem?” I asked, leaning over her, “Are you scared?”  
“I am never scared, Harleen.” She said, opening one eye, “You know that.”  
“Yes, but you’re acting weird.”   
…  
We walked down the sunny Manhattan streets, ready to meet candidate number one in the quest for Pamela’s child’s paternity – I know, seriously, it’s strange even for us, and our exes fucked each other.   
He worked in this building off Wall Street. When I had arrived, I had stopped, puzzled.  
“This building looks really familiar, yeah?” I asked.  
“Well, yeah, it would be familiar because this is where my lawyer’s office was.” Pam said distractedly, suddenly looking very interested in her phone.  
“Are you ok? You look weird.”  
“Well, I’m fucking nervous, obviously.” She said, almost sputtering. She pushed me past me to get into the building. Curiouser and curiouser, indeed.  
Pam brushed through the lobby like it was nobody’s business. She seemed like she knew where she was going, which concerned me slightly. Like…how would she know unless she’d been to the guy’s office before?   
I grabbed her shoulder, halting her. She spun around, “What?!”  
“Girl, you need to cool it. We have to go into this with a plan.”   
“What plan? Plans are dumb.” She said. Her fast was fast, her breathing a little shallow.  
“Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you? You were just fine until we got here.”   
Pam’s eyes glanced away from me for a moment, and then widened. She paled visibly. I turned to see what she was looking at, and I locked eyes with Justin, Pam’s lawyer.  
I waved at him.  
Pam hissed, “Are you kidding me?! I am supposed to be in Arkham Asylum right now and I am standing in the lobby of his building! He’s going to call the cops!”   
“Oh shit.” I muttered. Completely forgot about her being an escaped convict briefly.  
Justin came over to us. He was on the phone.  
“I will call you back, John.” He hung up. He folded his arms across his chest, “Would you care to come with me to my office, ladies?”  
“Yes, that would be grand.” I said boldly, and followed him.  
Pam was still almost rooted to the ground in her defiance.  
I gestured at her more vehemently, and she finally moved her ass. I mean, I was scared too, but I wasn’t going to act like it. This could very easily blow up in our faces. We had to strategize. I was running through all possible scenarios in my head as we went into the elevator and up to Justin’s office on the 5th floor.  
We went into his office and he closed the door firmly behind us. He sat down in his chair behind his desk, and put his face in his palms for a few seconds. He sighed deeply and looked up at us, “What the hell is going on?”   
“That’s a good question.” I started.  
Pam put her hand up, “Stop, Harley. We have to cut to the chase.”   
“Ok…” I said hesitantly.  
“Look, Justin, there’s no easy way to say this. Harley helped me escape from Arkham.”   
“Harley Quinn? I thought you said she was out of the country!”   
Pam literally face-palmed, “Oh, well, shit, um…”  
“I am Harley Quinn.” I said, giving him an awkward, toothy smile.   
“I…well, I kind of assumed, actually. I just couldn’t prove it. You did look an awful lot like the picture I’d seen of Dr. Quinzel.” Justin said, shaking his head, “I suppose I shouldn’t be shocked.”   
“Yeah, knowing us, you really shouldn’t be.”   
“So, you’re the one who used to date Bruce Wayne?”  
“Was engaged to Bruce Wayne.” I mumbled.  
“And you left him for the Joker?”  
“Sure did.”  
“And…that’s still a thing?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“Indeed it is. We have a daughter, actually.” I said, showing him the background picture on my phone, “Her name is Olivia.”   
“Well, then.” He said, “Ok, um, what is stopping me from calling the police on you two right now?”  
“Because Pam is pregnant.” I blurted out.  
Pam and Justin both went the exact same shade of white after that statement was declared.   
I stared at Pam.  
I stared at Justin.  
I stared at Pam again.  
It was like a literal lightbulb appeared above my head. The building, the anxiety Pam was feeling this morning, it all added up. She knew exactly who the father was, and he was sitting right in front of me.  
“YOU SONS OF BITCHES.” I jumped up, “You are fucking kidding me! You made me believe that this was a Mamma Mia thing, but you knew all along he was the baby daddy!”   
“I…yeah, I did.” Pam turned to face Justin, “So, um, hi daddy.” Then she threw up in the trash can next to his desk.  
It was just a lovely moment. Really, I wish I had brought my camera. It would make such a nice thing to frame.  
There was a beat of silence that was palpable, almost pulsating. It was so quiet that you could hear people in the next office having a conversation about how someone made an error in the Mets game last night. Not that I care. Yankees all the way, though.  
“Oh my God.” Justin finally said, running a hand through his hair, “Pam.”  
“Yeah, oops.”  
“Oops is all you can say?” I asked incredulously.   
“I mean, it was an oops.” Pam clarified.  
“How…how did this come about?” I inquired, “Help me understand.”  
“Well, he would come to the prison all the time, obviously, to prep me with stuff for the case. I couldn’t really deny that I was attracted to him.” Pam said, “And I was a fucking mess, Harley. You know that. I was vulnerable after Selina left me.”  
“What?” Justin asked, his voice hollow, “Selina as in Selina Kyle, as in Catwoman?”  
“Yeah, we were married.” Pam shrugged.  
“Dude, you don’t want to go down this rabbit hole.” I said, exhaling deeply, “It only gets weirder from here.”  
Justin looked like he also wanted to puke in the trash can. I didn’t really blame him.  
“Ok, buddy, here’s the deal.” I said, sitting up straighter, “I wasn’t expecting this. Pam lied to me and told me she didn’t know who the father was. That was obviously wrongo-bongo, so we’re moving on from that. Now that I do know, I’ve got a fucking bone to pick with you. You are a Class-A dickbag for sleeping with my friend while she was in PRISON. That’s super assaulty, and I don’t appreciate it. Also, she was your client. That goes against so many ethical things or whatever that it’s making my head spin. Sleeping with your client who is in federal prison and also is mentally unstable? I am sure that the New York State Legal Board would just love to hear about that. I think I’ll rip up that Stanford Law diploma you have so nicely framed up there myself and make you eat it. You are going to pay fucking big time for this.”  
“Harley, for God sakes!” Pam exclaimed, jumping up, “You don’t even know the whole story!”  
“I know that he took advantage of you and that’s all I need to hear!” I snapped, “You don’t get it. You were a victim!”  
“I was no victim, I wanted him to have sex with me! It was 100 percent consensual!”   
“Nothing is consensual when you are behind bars, you should know better than that!”  
Justin stood up fast, his chair scraping backwards.  
“Listen, you two!” Justin said, holding his hand up.  
We stopped bickering and looked at him.   
“First of all, you two cannot come in here and start accusing me of something that you can’t prove.” He began.  
“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” I retorted.  
“You – and I mean, Pam – you need to provide me concrete proof that you are indeed pregnant, and when it’s possible, proof that I am the father. I am more than willing to submit to the test, no questions asked.”  
“I think that’s fair.” Pam affirmed.  
“And if it is my child, which it may well be, I am willing to assume responsibility for the care of the child. I am not a deadbeat. You are not going to come into my office and threaten me without proof. I will not be blackmailed.” He said, clenching his fists, “I cannot believe this has happened, but I have to accept my mistake and live with it. I am upset, I am furious with myself for giving into my baser urges, but I know how people like you two operate.”  
I glared at him, my eyes fierce, “Just because we are criminals doesn’t mean we aren’t people, Justin. We weren’t going to blackmail you.”  
He gave me a deadpan look.  
“…unless you turned out to be the father.” I finished under my breath.  
“That’s what I thought.”  
“Hello!” Pam interjected, “I am the mother here. I am part of this. Doesn’t anyone want to hear my opinion about this?”  
“Oh yeah sorry, Pam, my bad. Go for it.”  
She glared daggers at me, “You don’t get to speak for me. This is my body and my child. I can decide what I want to do in this situation.”  
“Yeah, but you’re vulnerable and emotionally compromised, honey, you don’t know what you want.”   
“Harley, please leave.” She said quietly, firmly, “You’re done.”  
I made a flustered sound that was somewhat a gasp and somewhat a grunt, not 100 percent sure which, “I’m sorry?”  
“I think she’s asking you to leave so we can talk.” Justin said.   
I snapped, “Yeah, I get that, dickhole. I just can’t believe-”  
“Harley, please.” Pam said again.   
I got to my feet and snarled, “Fine, but you know I’m not happy about it.”  
“Bye.” Justin said loudly and obnoxiously.  
I flipped him the bird as I closed the door.  
I stood there for a moment, flabbergasted. Pam didn’t know how to handle this shit by herself. She clearly had poor decision-making skills when picking people to bone, and this was the prime example. I grumbled some expletives to myself, and turned on my heel to head for the lobby to get a coffee.   
What I didn’t expect to see when I turned was someone I really, really didn’t feel like seeing at this point in my day, or really ever, for that matter.   
Bruce goddamn motherfucking stupid-ass bitch cock-sucking Wayne was there in the hall, frozen to his spot.   
“Son of a bitch.” We said at the same time.  
“Harleen.”   
“Bruce.” I sighed deeply, “Of course this is how this day was going to go.”   
“What are you doing here?”   
“I could ask you the same question.” I retorted, cracking my neck in a very subtle attempt to be menacing, “However, I’m not really in the mood to scrap with you today.”   
“Gee, lucky me.” His voice oozed sardonically.  
It made me almost want to ball up my fist and punch him square in the nose. Or in the balls. Good thing I had two hands.  
I leaned against the wall, “Why is it that we have to run into each other at the most utterly inconvenient times?”  
“One might call it dramatic irony.”  
“One might stick their foot up your butt.”   
“Catty clapbacks don’t suit you, Harleen.”  
“Oh, really now, I can think of something catty that used to suit you.” I said, inspecting my nails. Dude, I bite my cuticles A LOT. That’s gross.  
He swallowed hard, “I guess I have to give you that one.”  
I looked up, “Ah, admitting defeat?”  
“For this split second in time.” He gritted his teeth.  
“Are you here to see Justin?” I inquired, feeling incredibly smug.  
“Yes.” He said curtly.  
“Care to expound on your thesis statement, Mr. Wayne?”  
“I do not. Would you care to explain why you are here?”  
“I would not.”   
“Then it seems we are at an impasse.” Bruce said, putting his hands in his pockets. He looked impeccable as usual in his Armani navy blue suit.   
“New color on you.” I commented.  
“Yes, I am trying to expand my wardrobe.”  
“New girlfriend?” I asked snidely.  
His face blanched in a very conspicuous way.   
I snorted, “How could I guess? God, you’re such a dick. Just move on to the next one. Buy her some diamonds and shit, she’ll stick around.”  
“It is so much more complicated than that.” He shook his head.  
I opened my mouth to respond, but the door creaked open and Pamela emerged. She also halted when she saw me talking to Bruce.  
“Oh.” She breathed.   
“Hello, Pam.” Bruce nodded.  
“Bruce.” She squared her shoulders, “What are you doing here?”  
“Same goes for you two.”  
“Again, we are not answering that.” I interjected, “Pam, we’re going.”   
“Alright.” She said. She took a step forward and then held up her finger. She then dry-heaved into the potted plant behind me.   
“Stunning.” I remarked.  
She gave me the finger, still hunched over the plant.  
Bruce raised an eyebrow, “What’s up with her?”  
“She just has the flu.” I replied, helping Pam stand up straight.  
“Oh, it cannot be just that. Why would the two of you show up here to talk to Justin if Pam was sick?” he then looked Pam over, and his eyes widened in recognition, “Well, son of a bitch.”  
“You know nothing, Jon Snow.” I snapped.  
He chuckled to himself, “Wow, who knocked her up?”  
“How did you know?” Pam asked weakly.  
“Powers of deduction. Vomiting, fuller breasts, the general demeanor.” He shrugged.  
“Well, thanks for at least noticing my boobs.” She said, staring down at them.  
I snarled, “Bruce, stay out of our fucking business.”  
“Then you stay out of mine.” He stepped forward, not three inches from my face, “Wherever you go, Harleen Quinzel, you always bring trouble. I don’t need your bullshit anymore.”  
“Get out of my fucking way.” I shoved past him, “Come on, Pam.”   
I hadn’t gotten two steps toward the end of the hallway when a figure rounded the stairs.  
Jesus Christ.   
No, sorry, that was misleading.  
It was Barbara Gordon.


	7. Can't Lead Me Down That Road

Chapter 7: Can’t Lead Me Down that Road

I bet you got pushed around  
Somebody made you cold  
But the cycle ends right now  
Cause you can’t lead me down that road  
And you don’t know what you don’t know  
\- “Mean”, Taylor Swift 

“Oh hey, cunt.” I said, dead-pan.  
She stopped in her tracks, “Harley. Pamela.”  
Pam waved weakly, her head still hovering above the potted plant.  
“What’s her problem?” Barbara asked.  
“You make her sick.” I replied snidely. Oh yes, burn baby burn. I am feeling myself today.   
Barbara narrowed her eyes, “Just as charming as ever.”  
“Thanks.” I simpered.  
I then took a moment and looked between Bruce and Barbara, “Oh. OH GOD.”  
“What?” Barbara gave me a puzzled, wide-eyed stare.  
“OH DEAR GOD NO.” I repeated, “DEAR JESUS, NO.”  
“Is she broken?” Pamela looked up. She smacked me on the back, “Harley, you’re stuck on surprise mode.”  
“No,” I smack-waved at her to get her off of me, “Don’t you get it? Bruce comes here, and then Barbara comes here right after, ALONE. Alone, i.e. sans Dick Grayson, I presume?” I looked back at the two culprits.  
Their silence was deafening.  
“EW GOD WHY!” I shouted again.  
Justin opened the door and stepped out, “What the hell is going on here?”  
“Bruce Wayne fucked her!” I said, pointing at the two of them, who both immediately went scarlet, “He’s a sick stupid motherfucker! And a liar and cheater!”  
Pam raised an eyebrow, “Harley, we’re in public.”  
“This is the most awful thing. AWFUL. You two should be ashamed of yourselves, so ashamed. You’re both terrible people. Pam, we have to go. I can’t bear to look at the two of them anymore. I just can’t. Justin, you can have him and deal with whatever bullshit, I don’t care. God help all of you, really.” I couldn’t stop at this point, I felt my rage boiling up inside me.   
I stared at Bruce dead in the eyes, “You are the worst human being. You really are. When I think you stop hurting people, you just keep right on doing it.”   
“Stop.” He said quietly.  
“No, you stop. You stop being such an asshole.” I poked him hard in the chest, “You stop being such a fucking dick and ruining everyone’s lives. WOW. You cannot ever just let people be happy, can you? You have to go and muck things up over and over again. You know what, when me and the Joker reign as the king and queen in Hell, you can come step right up and take a fucking seat next to us! Glad to have you. BECAUSE YOU SUCK. YOU SUCK SO HARD.”  
Justin pulled me back, away from Bruce, and I started kicking the air, “Let me at him! I will strangle the life out of him!”  
“There will be none of that today.” Justin said, frustratingly calm.  
“You’re good in times of stress. Will serve you well as a father.” Pam commented, “Harley, let’s get out of here. You’re making a scene.”  
“You’re goddamn right I’m making a scene! He deserves the shame! THE SHAME! Pamela, get that fucking nun from Game of Thrones out here and shame him!”   
Pam looped her arm through mine and shoved me back down the stairs, “We are going, and that’s final. You’re acting like a damn fool.”   
“I just cannot believe him. How could he be that stupid?” I seethed, breathing heavily, “I am furious.”  
“No kidding. Couldn’t tell.”  
“Don’t be cute, Pam, this is just the shittiest thing ever. Aren’t you pissed at them?”  
“Why would I have the right to be pissed at them? They’re stupid.”  
“You loved Barbara.”  
“That’s a bit extreme. I cared for her but she betrayed me. When I see her, I’m dead inside. That’s how I handle my pain. I think you could try a little of that instead of being a nutbag.”  
“Speaking as a former psychiatrist, not the best idea.” I pointed out, “I think it’s better to express your emotions and just put it all out there.”   
“You don’t say.” She said wryly.  
I flipped her off. She rolled her eyes.  
“Ugh, I’m just so over him and his bullshit.” I fumed, stomping down the stairs, “How are you not more upset right now? You did just confront the father of your child.”  
“I’m more worried about vomiting.”  
“Compartmentalizing. Smart move.”  
She shrugged, “At this point, I have to worry more about the little nugget growing inside of me.”   
I stared at her, “That’s weird as hell hearing you say that.”  
“Yeah, I know.” She smiled warmly, touching her stomach, “Speaking of, I have to make a doctor’s appointment while we’re here. Do you want to come with me?”  
“You don’t want Justin there?”  
“I mean, not until he even claims ownership of this. I have to get the paternity test. At this point, you can be my surrogate baby daddy.”   
“I did not think that would ever be a term that anyone would call me, but I am just going to roll with it. You know I’ll come with you to any doctor’s appointment, anything you need.”   
“Thanks.” Pam put her arm around me, “You feeling better?”  
“I just…I am just infuriated.”   
“I hadn’t noticed.” She commented, suddenly looking incredibly interested in her phone.  
“Ah ha ha,” I barked, “God, this day seriously cannot get any worse.”  
She side-eyed me, “Are you joking?”  
“Oh geez, my b. You are definitely having a super awful day. I am so self-centered.” I said, putting my arm around her and squeezing her shoulder.  
“At least you’re self-aware.”  
...  
We hopped in a cab at LAX – just kidding, just kidding – it was outside the building, and headed back to the hotel.  
When we walked in the door, I called out, “Babe?”  
No response.  
Pam peered into the bedrooms, “No sign of him. Hasn’t he been gone since like last night?”  
“Yeah, but that’s pretty normal when he’s on a job.” I shrugged, plunking my ass on the couch.   
“Do you want to at least text him?” she inquired, putting her purse down on the armchair.  
“Eh, that’s kind of useless. He won’t be able to answer if he’s in the middle of something.” I said, fiddling with my phone.   
When I looked up, Pam was staring hard at me.  
“What?” I asked.  
“What is your deal?”  
“I have no deal.”   
“Did you guys have a fight or something?”  
“Not in the last 24 hours, no.”  
“That doesn’t bode well.” She remarked.  
“Dude, we fight all the time. It’s kind of our thing, really.” I said, switching channels absent-mindedly.  
She sat down next to me, “Why are you trying to avoid your problems?”  
“I’m not.” I said stubbornly, “I am just not going to bother him when he’s out doing Joker-y things. He could get compromised.”  
“I guess…” Pam sighed, “Have you guys really sat down and talked about your intimacy issues?”  
“UMM, no.” I replied, “I really don’t feel like talking about that right now, especially with you. It’s not really your business.”  
“Something must really be going on if you don’t want to tell me about it.”  
“Pam, honestly, if I told you the real reason, you would really hate me. He would really hate me. I already hate myself for thinking it.”   
“You know you can tell me anything.” She said, grabbing my hand.  
I pulled it away, “No, not this. It’s better off I work it through in my own head before I say the wrong thing.”  
She stared at me long and hard for a moment, and then stood up, “Fine, ok. If you want to talk about it, I am here. You know that.”  
“I do.” I said, meaning it.  
“Well, I’m going to take a nap. I am emotionally and physically drained from this day. You going to be ok?”  
“Yeah, I’ll find a marathon of something mindless.”  
“Good girl.” She said, and disappeared into her room, closing the door.  
I did settle on a Friends marathon, and then ended up falling asleep myself after about 20 minutes.  
I woke up to a buzzing sound from my phone, which was on the coffee table in front of me. I wiped at my eyes groggily, and then picked it up to see who had texted me. It was not the Joker, but that stupid dumb shit Bruce Wayne. What could he possibly want?  
I opened the text.  
‘Sorry about earlier.’  
Oh, that asshole. Just tantalizing enough to respond.  
I debated not responding. I really did.  
‘It’s fine. It was sort of a charged situation.’  
‘I know. Barbara is really pissed at me.’  
‘Honestly, I don’t care.’  
‘I know you don’t. I was texting you to see if you would join me for a drink later. Murphy’s on 7th. I just got some bad news.’  
I froze, not sure what to say. What kind of bad news?   
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea. He wouldn’t be happy if I did that.’  
‘I figured you would say that. If you change your mind, I’ll be there around 10 PM.’  
I sent a thumbs up emoji, and that ended the conversation.   
I deleted the message thread from my phone for extra precaution. I had to admit, I was concerned. I felt like Bruce wouldn’t want to risk meeting up with me unless it was something really bad. But, on the other hand, he could be lying. He’s a sneaky little prick like that.  
I had some hours to ponder this, so I turned back to my Friends marathon in the hopes that it would distract me. It mostly did, because Ross is awful and I could redirect my anger on him. HE’S AWFUL. DON’T FIGHT ME ON THIS.  
Anyway, Pam woke up about an hour later, and we determined that the best course of action was copious amounts of food, so we headed to a Thai place around the corner from the hotel and gorged ourselves on some greasy noodles.  
Pam, in her never-ending quest to combat nausea, decided to go to bed around 11 to avoid not throwing up. She had placed a small garbage can next to her bed in case the baby declared war on her stomach again.   
I waited for about 15 minutes, and debated on just going to bed myself.  
But then I thought about Bruce’s text.  
It gnawed at me and gnawed at me until I felt the urge to just get up, put on my jean jacket, and head out into the night. I left Pam and the Joker a note to let them know I was going to the corner store. I couldn’t be gone long, in case the Joker came back and was pissed that I wasn’t there.  
I walked down to 7th, and passed the window for Murphy’s, suddenly thinking that was the worst idea I’d ever had. I should just turn around.  
Then I saw Bruce sitting at the bar, very deep into a glass of scotch. He looked utterly miserable. And my soft, bleeding heart got the best of me.   
I walked inside; the bar was pretty empty except for Bruce and a couple tables of small groups chatting. I headed up to the bar, and sat down next to him. He barely even looked up from his drink. He was totally hammered. He must have moved fast on that scotch; it had barely been an hour.  
The bartender came over to me, “What can I get for you, miss?”  
“Vodka cranberry.” I said, and went into my purse to get my debit card.  
Bruce put his hand over mine that was holding the card, “Put it on my tab, Dan.”  
“No problem, Mr. Wayne.” The bartender said, and put my drink down in front of me.  
“Thanks,” I said.  
Bruce was quiet for a moment, and then said, “You came.”  
“That’s what she said.”   
Bruce looked up at me, deadpan, “Why must you be this way?”  
“You were just so serious. I had to do something.” I shrugged, “Now, I don’t have a lot of time, so just spill your guts and I’ll be on my way.”  
“Jesus, Harley.” He said, sighing deeply.  
“I need more information than that.”   
He didn’t look like he was amused by my glibness.  
“Have you looked at Instagram today?”  
That question threw me off, “Ummmmm…no?”  
He wordlessly took out his phone, and scrolled through the Instagram feed and then shoved the phone in my face. The picture was of a hand with a big-ass engagement ring on it.  
The user’s name in the photo was ‘catladykyle’. Oh well, shit. Also, she’s not subtle. That username was not fooling anyone. But hey, time and place, time and place.  
“Ah. I see what the bad news was.”   
He basically chucked his phone onto the floor, and it clattered against the barstool. I cringed, and bent down to pick it up.   
“I take it you’re not hashtag thrilled about the news?” I asked. Man, I was a cheeky little bitch today. I owe myself a cookie or something.  
His eyes were bloodshot when he looked back at me, “No, let’s just say I will not be attending the wedding of her and her…” he slugged back his scotch, “…farmer.”  
“Yikes.” I said, not knowing what else to say, “I hope Pam hasn’t seen this.”  
“Are you more worried about how she feels than how I feel?” he snapped.  
“Um, have we met? Of course I am more worried about her. She’s my best friend, and you’re my ex-fiancé slash toolbag. It’s not even comparable. Why are you even so upset anyway? It’s not like you guys were together.”  
“She’s still the mother of my child, with whom I have an ongoing fucking custody battle.” His eyes then widened when he realized what he had said.   
“Ohhhh so that’s why you were at Justin’s. He’s helping you with custody of Edward.” Now it all made sense.  
“Yes. This is all so goddamn complicated.” He glanced at me, “As usual, with your crew of misfits.”  
“Hold up, Selina is not my ‘crew’, as you call it. Not so, Francisco.” I waggled my finger at him, “I never have and never will be in charge of what Selina ‘cuntbag’ Kyle does in her free time. If she wants to marry a doofus farmer from Wyoming, let her. She’ll leave him in a month anyway. You know how she is. She loves the chase but not the consequences.”  
His silence disturbed me.  
“Do you still love her?” I asked, point blank.  
The look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know.  
“You have to tell her.” I said.  
“I will not do that.”  
“Why not?”  
“I am not ruining her life because I have a feeling.” Bruce waved the bartender over and made a pouring motion with his hand.   
“Um, I don’t think you need more. How deep are you in?”  
“I don’t even know at this point.” He straight-up giggled. GIGGLED to himself. He was cracking.   
Somehow I thought I would delight in this, to see him in so much agony. But instead, it bothered me. It made me a little sad, really. I hated that I felt that way. I should wish him the worst, but yet I still didn’t. Something about Bruce made me soft inside, as much as it pained me to admit. He was a part of my emotional past that I could never seem to get over. I didn’t love him anymore; that much was plain. However, I did want to see him be happy, because in a weird way, that would at least make him leave me alone. We had the most utterly complicated bullshit relationship that anyone could ever dream up.  
The bartender put the next glass of scotch down and Bruce went to take it. I put my hand in the way, “Whoa, now.”  
He glared at me, “Let me drink to forget.”  
“I will not do that in good conscience. I think you should go home.” I suggested.   
“I cannot go home. Alfred will judge me.”  
“I think Alfred has done enough judging for a lifetime with you.”   
“I cannot go home alone.”  
“It’s no different than any other day.”   
Bruce was clearly not in the mood for my sass today, so I figured I’d tone it down.  
“Bruce, just go home and get some sleep. This isn’t helping.”  
“It’s helping temporarily, and that’s all I need at the moment.” He chugged about half the glass. He cringed, “That still doesn’t go down any smoother than I thought it would after this many.”  
I sighed, and looked at my phone. It was half past midnight. I had been gone almost an hour. No text from Jay though.  
Bruce rolled his eyes, “Is he asking where you are?”  
“Actually no, he hasn’t talked to me all day, not that that is any of your concern.”   
“Trouble in paradise?” he was giggling again. It was getting weird up in here.  
“Ok, I am making an executive decision here. My hotel is a few blocks away. You can sleep on the couch. That way you are not alone and you can sleep it off.”  
“I am not doing that.” He slurred, shaking his head.  
“Yes, you are. You live too far away from here anyway. Is your driver outside?”  
“No, I told him to fuck off.”  
“Good call.”  
Whoops. Couldn’t really hold off my sass very long.  
“Ok, fine. I will go with you. As long as he’s not there.”  
“I can’t make any promises, but I don’t think it will matter to you much longer because you’re going to forget we ever had this conversation.”   
“Ha ha…” he was starting to slump.  
I propped him up, “Mm mm, sir. Not falling off a barstool on my watch.” I held him up, “Let’s go.”  
“Mmkay.” He said into my boob, “I miss these. Selina is just like…flatsville.”  
“Let’s not.” I said irritably, opening the door to go back outside, “Aren’t you with Barbara anyway?”  
“Oh God, no.” he shook his head way too vehemently, “No, no, no.”  
“That’s a lot of no’s.”  
“Barbara is pissed at me.”  
“For good reason, I presume. Turn here.” I instructed as we rounded the corner.  
“Yeah, Barbara and I…God, it was such a mistake.” He said, exhaling deeply, “It was really stupid of me.”  
“Can I ask what happened?”  
“You want to know the position or something?”  
“Ok, now it’s your turn to be catty?” I thought about it for a moment, “Ooh, sorry, poor choice of words. My bad.”  
“It’s fine. Anyway, Barbara and I were out on a mission one night – her and Dick were fighting, I think. Something about the hors d’oeuvres at the wedding, the fuck if I know. They were just fighting a lot lately about the wedding stuff.”  
“I keep forgetting that they’re getting married.” I remarked. To be honest, I completely forgot. I don’t pretend to be a good person, y’all.  
“It’s hard for me to forget. They’re so annoying. And they bring it up when we’re supposed to be out fighting crime…like, why? Not the time and place for that.”  
“Sure.”   
“Anyway, they got into a particularly nasty one that evening and I was getting on Barbara’s case because she handled this one mission super poorly. Total mess. She got way too emotionally involved in this missing girl case; turned out it was her boyfriend and he beat the shit out of her and killed her accidentally. Mafia guy, a real douchebag. Barbara for some reason took it so personal and she went over there and just obliterated him. Shot him like 18 times.”  
“Jesus Christ.”  
“I know. I told her she can’t do shit like that.” Bruce paused as we had gotten to the hotel front door. I pushed him through the revolving door, and he stumbled out of it into the lobby.   
I looked at the hotel front desk guy, some young 20’s-looking hipster with a bowtie, “Could you get the elevator for us?”  
He looked thrilled as I am sure this was probably the most exciting thing to happen to him all day, “Of course, ma’am!”  
MAAM. EWW.  
Anyway, I shoved Bruce into the elevator and hit the button for our floor, “Continue.”  
“So, I met her on this rooftop to explain why we can’t do shit like that, because we’re supposed to be the good guys and we just want to put these people in jail, not kill them.”  
“Man, you and Jay have entirely different philosophies.” I remarked.  
He gave me a dead-pan look, and continued, “It got heated. She started pushing me on the chest, and I didn’t want to hit her. I don’t like hitting women, of course. I let her shove me and she tripped and we fell down. We were just lying there, staring at each other. And…things just got out of control. She kissed me, I kissed her…it went too far.”  
I was quiet.   
“Nothing snarky to say?” he asked in surprise.  
“You know how I feel about cheating very well, Bruce.”  
“I never-”  
“You did, and that’s all I have to say. We’re moving on.”  
He stared at me for a long moment, and then said, “Ok, so we fucked up. We did. It was both of our faults. And now we have to hide this from Dick. It would crush him if he found out.”  
“You’re never going to tell him?”  
“I just don’t think that would be advisable. I will not tell him. If Barbara wants to, that’s on her. I am going to move on and just pretend like nothing ever happened. Barb wants to do the same.”   
“Morally ambiguous.” I shrugged, “I can’t say I’ve never been in the same position.”  
“In that you have sex with a murderer?”   
“Or not enough.” I muttered to myself.  
“What?” he was starting to slur again.  
“Let’s just get you inside.” He leaned against the wall as I opened the door. He looked at me with this very familiar smile, “This reminds me of our weekend trip to Vermont. You remember that hotel?”  
“Yeah, it was nice.” I said, fiddling with the key card.  
“We were so drunk when we got back to our room.”  
“Yes, we were.” I said hesitantly, “Not exactly the same situation.”  
I opened the door and pulled him inside, helping him onto the couch, “Do you want some water?”  
“Yeah.” He said, trying in vain to take off his shoes.  
I rolled my eyes, “Let me help you.” I squatted down and untied his shoes, and took both of them off, “Better?”  
“Yes.” He smiled and he got that same look in his eye, “God, Harley, I’ve missed you.”  
“We’re not going down that road to hell.” I said, abruptly standing up., “No, thanks.”   
“I am not going to have sex with you.” He said, trying to sit up, but falling immediately back down into the pillow with a thud.  
“I don’t think you could even get it up in this condition.” I had to laugh a little.  
“I totally could.”  
“I think you’d fall asleep first.” I went into the kitchen and poured him a glass of water from the Brita filter in our fridge. I handed it to him, “Please drink this and go to sleep. I’ll order you some breakfast in the morning.”  
“Thanks, mom.” He joked.  
“That’s not a way to keep your couch privileges.”  
“Oh, so you’d put me in your bed?” he attempted to wriggle his eyebrows and failed so hard. It was almost cute.  
“Go to sleep.”  
“Fine.”   
“Good night.”  
“Good night to you.” He said, almost spilling his water in the process of waving to me.  
I closed my door behind me, and changed into my pajamas. What a goddamn night.   
I collapsed into my bed, and fell asleep pretty quickly.   
Unfortunately, my wake-up call was less inviting.   
“What the fuck is Bruce Wayne doing in my living room?!”


End file.
